


Race and the New Kid

by 손 현숙 (safarikalamari)



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Memories, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Meetings, Getting Back Together, M/M, Minor Character Death, Modern Era, One Shot, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 07:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20170180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safarikalamari/pseuds/%EC%86%90%20%ED%98%84%EC%88%99
Summary: Race's junior year has a rocky start no thanks to the newest classmate, Spot Conlon





	Race and the New Kid

From the moment he had laid eyes on Spot Conlon, Racetrack knew they would never get along. 

A new student to the school, Spot already went around acting like he owned the place. Taking credit where he had no involvement, parading with unending arrogance, every little thing Spot did set Race’s nerves on edge. All of his friends could see Race’s anger, but to no avail could their advice settle him down.

So, it was really to no one’s surprise when Race punched Spot across the face after a harsh exchange of words. 

Spot’s face was painted with wide eyes and mouth hanging open before he launched himself at Race, the two in a messy tangle of tearing hands. It took several teachers to break them apart, leaving Race with a bloody nose and Spot with a cut lip. 

Thrown into detention, the two sat as far as possible in the room, occasionally sending each other glares as the time ticked by. As he stared at Spot’s back, Race wished and wished for the shirt to catch on fire, but to no avail were his prayers heard.

“It’s your fault we’re here, you know,” Race muttered, his head propped up on his arms that were crossed on the desk. “But you had to stoop that low.”

Whipping his head around, Spot’s eyes shot daggers, his mouth in a tight line. “You’re the one that punched me. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”

“Sensitive?” Race let out a cynical laugh. “Your “joke” as you so called it, was vile and cheap. If you were really trying to lighten the mood, you could’ve done a better job.”

At this, Spot let out a growl and he leapt to his feet, grabbing Race by the collar of his shirt. Before he could do anything else, the door to the room opened, a teacher blankly staring at the two of them. 

“Seems you two have more than enough energy. Come with me.”

After shoving each other away, the two boys followed the teacher out until they were led to the back of the school. Just near the track field, a pile of outdoor cleaning supplies sat, and the teacher motioned. 

“You’ll be doing some cleaning up for the next month. Maybe then, you two will learn to get along.”

Both boys’ mouths dropped open, groans coming out simultaneously as they complained about school work and other extracurriculars. 

“Then you should have thought about that before starting a fight,” the teacher responded, with an edge of impatience. 

Leaving the boys, it was Race who picked up a rake first, muttering to himself as he started at the leaves on the ground. 

“You gonna help or what, asshole?” Race turned, seeing Spot leaning against a tree. 

“You’re doing a great job. I’ll just supervise.” 

Race put on a smile, false and sharp, as he stopped his raking. “I’m no snitch, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

Spot’s eyes narrowed and the two were caught in a fierce stare until Spot relented, picking up the other rake.

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks.”

Taking separate corners of the grounds, the two boys worked until it felt like several hours had passed. Finally, the teacher came to send them home and Race sprinted away, despite how heavy his thoughts still were. 

Arriving home, Race slammed the door to his bedroom shut, a loud groan escaping him. Spot Conlon was truly the worst person to ever exist and Race wondered how he would ever survive another year of high school with him around.

~

Race was sure Spot was going to skip out on detention. 

After all, he had already been at the field, clearing away brush for at least ten minutes. It didn’t help matters that Spot had been showing up later and later with each day, leaving Race to figure out how to finish all the work by himself.

“Stupid prick,” Race spoke to himself, finding comfort in calling Spot every swear in the book. 

“You called?”

Snapping his head up, Race fought back his surprise as Spot stood near him, wide grin and nonchalant stance. 

“Yeah, hurry up and help,” Race bit, reaching down to clear up a pile of sticks. 

Throwing the pile into a nearby paper bag, Race eyed Spot as he began to help, his movements hesitant and slow. There looked to be a question on Spot’s face, but Race wasn’t in the mood for whatever Spot was planning.

“They’re not going to bite,” Race commented to diffuse the situation, only to receive a huff in return. 

Spot scooped up all the debris that lay around him in a hasty manner and shoved it into one of the bags, his gaze focused and cold. With the shake of his head, Spot headed off to another part of the field, leaving Race with his pile of leaves. Rolling his eyes, Race buried the anger that grew in his chest, choosing to take it out with the rake instead.

“Ain’t that hard to be nice,” Race kept his voice low this time, keeping an eye on Spot as they continued to clean up. 

By the time they were finishing up, Race was surprised that less insults were thrown around than usual. He wasn’t going to question it, rather he thanked his luck for this one not-so-terrible time. There were plenty of more times for Spot to show his true colors and Race wasn’t sure how much more he could handle.

~

When Race joined his friends at lunch, they stared at him expectantly and Race furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Blink piped up between a mouthful of sandwich. “The rumors about that Conlon kid.”

With a sigh, Race began to dig into this food, uninterested in whatever the school was gossiping about now. “I spend almost every single day with the asshole. I don’t need to know anymore than I already do.”

Unbothered by Race’s disinterest, Blink continued on. “Apparently he went to school with us when we were little. Moved away, came back to live with an aunt or something.”

“Good for him,” Race stabbed at a stray piece of potato, shoving it into his mouth. 

“Well, he keeps saying how he used to know you. That the two of you were friends.”

Mid-chew, Race stared at Blink and the rest of the group, hoping for something to break first. They were just teasing him, Race was sure, but when he was met with serious faces, Race finished his bit and shook his head. 

“He’s a liar then. Never played much with anyone. Hell, I didn’t get to know you guys until middle school.”

As soon as the words left Race’s mouth, a vague memory entered his mind. He could see drawings on the sidewalk, a little boy’s voice calling his name, but the static took over and Race was brought back to his current place in time. 

“Uh huh,” was all Blink replied with and Race huffed. 

This was all just some ploy. Another one of Spot’s tricks to get under his skin. 

As if the world was against him, Spot walked past the table then, giving Race his signature smirk along with a nod. 

All eyes were on Spot, but he seemed to enjoy this attention and waved goodbye to the group as he left the lunchroom. Once out of sight, everyone honed in on Race as his face turned a deep red. 

“Whatever, guys,” Race muttered, grabbing his tray and getting up from the table.

He didn’t need this right now. Throwing the remnants of his lunch away, Race marched to his locker, mumbling insults under his breath. 

By the time detention came around, Race’s anger hadn’t tempered a single bit, but to his surprise, Spot remained quiet. 

Race eyed him warily as Spot went to his own corner of the field yet again and Blink’s words from earlier haunted his thoughts. If they really had been friends at one point, the time apart had changed them. There was no way Race could’ve ever handled Spot and he found himself settling into this resignment. 

They would be nothing more than they were now and Race was okay with that. 

~

Race noted that they were halfway through their working hours when Spot shot up, glancing down at his watch. 

“It’s Thursday, right?” 

“Yeah, what about it?” Race questioned, crossing his arms. 

Spot fidgeted around and Race blinked. He had never seen Spot looking so nervous, as if he was about to throw up at any second.

“I’ve got somewhere I need to be. Now.”

“Oh no,” Race shook his head, advancing towards Spot. “You’re not gonna up and leave. We still have an hour to go.”

Spot’s face went a shade lighter, his fidgeting increasing. “Please. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Spot’s voice shook, fragile in the cool air and Race narrowed his eyes. 

He didn’t trust Spot, not for a moment. There was a secret to be had here and Race wanted to question. Then again, he had done this same stint to friends time and time again. If Spot really did need to be somewhere, Race could find it in himself to sympathize. Sighing, Race hoped he wasn’t making the wrong decision and nodded, a hand running down his face. 

“Go. Before I change my mind.”

With a sigh of relief and a stern nod, Spot raced off the field but he did not get into any vehicle. Rather, he ran down the path that weaved towards a destination Race knew all too well. Curiosity took over Race’s senses and he glanced at the school, wondering if anyone would even notice his absence for what could be the rest of the day. Gaze shooting between where Spot had run off to and the school, Race shoved away his hesitations and followed after Spot, hoping he hadn’t lost him in his time of thinking. 

Matching Spot’s pace, Race was able to see Spot in the distance, his steps slowing as he headed down the sidewalk. Wherever he was going, it seemed he had this walk memorized and Race came to a stop as Spot pushed open a gate that led to one of the local cemeteries. 

Sneaking in after him, Race took some shelter behind a patch of trees, peeking his head out just enough to see Spot stop in front of a new gravestone.

“Hey, Mom,” Spot greeted, his head tilted down. “Sorry I’m late today.” 

Race’s breath caught in his throat and he hid back behind the trees, leaning against them as he strained to hear Spot’s words.

“Lost track of time during detention. Thought Race wasn’t going to let me go,” Spot continued, his voice soft. “You know Race. Well, what I’ve told you since...anyway. He’s a nice kid.” 

Race furrowed his brows, wanting to laugh and gag at Spot’s statement. Here Race was, thinking Spot hated him to the core, and now his world was changing right before his eyes. 

“He’s kinda everything I wish I could be, you know? I thought doing some dumb things would catch his attention, but he just hates me even more.” There was another sigh, one that seemed to stop halfway. “I wish you were here. To help me make sense of all this.”

At this point, Race felt his welcome overstayed and he peeked out from the trees one last time to see Spot sitting in front of the grave. With his head down, Race turned away before sneaking back to the entrance. Hiding himself proved difficult but once he reached the edge of the cemetery, he headed back to campus in a jog, despite how exhausted he felt. 

With only a few minutes left to go of the detention, Race tried to make it look like some work had been done, but his mind could only focus on earlier. Spot, meek and small, so unlike the boastful snob Race had met the first day of classes was a shock to say the least. 

Race had thought himself wildly different from Spot, yet after today, he could only see that really the two of them weren’t so different after all. 

~

The day Spot showed up to school wearing a t-shirt of one of Race’s favorite bands, Race could hardly contain his excitement until detention.

He mentally slapped himself for his sudden switch, but no one else in the school had shown any remote interest in the band and Race needed to know if Spot was really a fan. 

“So, you been to any of their concerts?” Race commented as they swept around the stands. 

Race stood a few rows down from Spot and glanced up to see Spot’s reaction

Spot’s sweeping stuttered out of rhythm before started again, a smirk on his face. “A few times. You?”

“Every time they’re in town,” Race grinned, turning back to his sweeping.

“Favorite song?”

Race didn’t even have to think it over before he blurted out the answer and watched as Spot’s face grew into a rare smile. 

“Hey, me too.”

Pursing his lips to stop his growing smile, Race started with the opening, whistling it as he swept along. It wasn’t long before quiet singing reached his ears and Race turned to Spot, breathing in deeply. He didn’t know when it happened, but then he and Spot were belting the chorus, each with a fist raised to the sky. 

By the time they were finished, neither could keep the grins off their faces and Race looked away first, concentrating on a particular pile of dirt. 

“You’ve got a nice voice,” Spot complimented, leaning on his broom.

“Thanks, you’re not bad yourself,” Race nodded as heat began creeping up the back of his neck. 

The two glanced at each other, a moment lingering before the work started again and the talk went back to the band. Detention sped by, Race hardly believing it was over when the teacher came to collect them. 

“See you around, Race,” Spot waved and Race almost missed waving back, his heart leaping up into his throat. 

It was as if everything he had previously hated about Spot changed over a simple bonding moment. Not that Race minded, but he wanted more. He needed to know all about Spot and if that meant revealing some of himself in the process so be it. 

Something new floated in the air, making Race hold tight and his curiosity growing before him.

~

It was Spot who initiated it. 

Asking questions about Race’s life, giving genuine replies, it was odd how Spot was acting like an entirely different person. Not that Race wanted what they had before, he was just confused by the sudden change. 

“Do you like me now or something?” Race blurted out and he turned away quickly, his cheeks heating up. 

“Yeah, sure,” Spot replied and Race almost felt sick. 

Taking a breath in, Race let himself be overtaken by his thoughts, glancing at Spot who had taken to leaning on his rake. 

“Why?” Race asked, digging at a particularly stubborn leaf. 

“I don’t know. You’re stubborn, but I think that’s what makes you special. You hold your ground, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Race paused his movements for a moment before shaking his head. “Makes me sound like an asshole.”

“Well…” Spot began, then snapping his mouth shut when Race glared at him. 

With a cheeky smile, Spot spun his rake around before jumping back into the work. “You’ve got this confidence about you. It’s not selfish or proud. It’s just you.”

Race contemplated jumping into the leaf bag to hide his embarrassment, but he simply turned until his back was facing to Spot before he found his voice. 

“You sure notice a lot about me.” Race hoped his voice wasn’t wobbling too much.

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that,” Spot replied, but he said no more after that, leaving Race to spin around and squint at him.

Spot seemed interested in other things and Race didn’t want to press. It was Spot’s own business but Race wanted to make his own observations. 

“You care, don’t you?” Race poked, then shrinking away as Spot stared him down. “I mean, it’s not bad. It’s good, that you’ve got a heart and all.”

“Yeah, I got a heart,” Spot said, his voice monotone. “Got a lot of things, but I’m working on keeping down the bad ones.”

Race nodded, his grip on the rake turning his knuckles white. “Well, I think you’re doing all right. Could be better, but it’s not the worst I’ve seen.” Wincing a little at his words, Race mentally kicked himself and braced for what Spot would say next.

“Thanks.” Spot didn’t hold any malice, his posture curling in as he stared at the ground. “I’m trying.”

“That’s what matters,” Race responded and the two exchanged a look that made Race hold his breath. 

Spot’s eyes were nice. More than nice, but Race didn’t want to delve into that right now. He was just glad he didn’t get punched and to see Spot opening up was something Race never thought he’d appreciate. 

The two finished their detention in comfortable silence and when it was time to part ways, Race cleared his throat, stopping Spot in his tracks.

“Good talk today,” he started, then shaking his head at his words. “I mean, today was nice.”

“It was,” Spot nodded, a small smile growing on his face. “Should do this again sometime.”

“I’d like that,” Race grinned and found it in himself to wave as Spot started on his way again. 

Getting a wave in return, Race imagined he was on some cloud, some other world where he and Spot started off as friends. Hopscotch and jump rope shot through his mind, but as quickly as the images had come, they disappeared. 

Shaking away his frozen confusion, Race headed his own way home all while thinking about what he’d say to Spot next detention.

~

The clattering against Race’s window was driving him up the wall. At first, he assumed it was a stray branch, but it had turned into a consistent stream that his pillow couldn’t block out. The only light in his room was the stray beams from the moon and he glared at his clock, only thankful that he didn’t have school the next day.

Throwing his blankets off of him, Race marched over to the window to find the source of the sound, but when he saw nothing in front of him, he threw it open just as a small speck came shooting at his head. 

“What the fuck!” Race spat out, holding his head where he had been hit. 

A laugh from the ground caught his attention and Race rolled his eyes at the sight of Spot standing below his window. 

“It’s just a pebble,” Spot teased, testing another in his hand. 

“What do you want, Conlon?” Race scowled as he tried to remember when he had told Spot his address. 

He hadn’t and that set a new worry in Race’s mind. 

“Come walk with me,” Spot motioned a little with his hand, his gaze expecting and, dare Race say, hesitant. 

Hanging his head, Race mulled through the consequences, but his effort wasn’t really much at all and he disappeared inside his room to change. 

Sneaking downstairs, Race went out the back door, his heart dropping a little when he didn’t see Spot where he had left him. 

“Boo.”

Swatting Spot away, Race spun to face him and hated how Spot’s grin made his mind wander. 

“Didn’t you want to walk?” he tried to distract himself and Spot gladly took the lead. 

At first, Race lingered behind Spot, still wary of his intentions. After all, showing up in the middle of the night with no cause wasn’t exactly how Race had envisioned his Saturday to go. 

Yet, as Race thought and the two of them walked, Spot’s pace dropped until he was right next to Race. Their shoulders brushed and Race ignored the heat that rose to his face. 

There were no attempts at a conversation, but Race didn’t mind so much. There was something to this silence, as if they were both working at bringing their guard down. Race wasn’t sure if he was ready to offer Spot that luxury and he played with the thought as they reached the park. 

Taking the lead again, Spot brought them over to the swings, sitting down on one and watching Race as he took the other next to him. The two moved a little, swaying off-beat from each other and Race took a breath in. 

“Anything you want to talk about?” he started low. 

He winced a little at his words, but turned to Spot nonetheless, waiting for a response. With his head resting against the chain, Spot glanced at Race and shrugged. 

“Whatever works.”

Race raised his eyebrows at this, not expecting Spot to open the floor so suddenly. After all, Race didn’t have much to ease them into. Their favorite bands seemed too easy, but bringing up Spot’s mother was an area Race hesitated in touching. 

“I know you saw me,” Spot cut into Race’s thoughts. “When I left detention early that day. I had a feeling I was being watched and you didn’t hide yourself too well.”

Momentarily, Race’s eyes went wide before he looked at his hands, guilt taking over his heart. It wasn’t as if he had told anyone, but he had breached a privacy that he knew all too well. 

“Don’t need to apologize,” Spot continued on. “Whole school was bound to find out about her eventually.”

Spot’s nonchalance was almost worrying and Race spared a glance at him just to make sure he was doing all right. Spot was gazing up at the stars, his hands gripped tight to the chains of the swing. With a sharp breath, Spot pushed from the ground and used the momentum to start swinging, his eyes never straying from the sky. 

Unsure of what else to do, Race joined in and soon caught up to Spot’s height, the two swinging in unison. Occasionally, Race would check on Spot, but the boy remained as stoic as ever as they used all their energy to swing. 

Whether it was competition or compassion, Race kept up with Spot as best he could until Spot brought himself to a sudden stop, his breaths coming out short and shaken. Halting his own swinging, Race waited to see if Spot would do anything first, his own small hopes rising to the surface. 

When Spot remained as he was, Race reached out, a growing need to show Spot he understood. His hand landed on Spot’s wrist and Spot froze, looking down at Race’s hand. 

“I, uh…” Race stumbled over his words. “I get it, Spot. I know you think I don’t, but I really do.” 

Spot’s gaze shifted between Race’s hand and face, his eyes unreadable in the quiet night. Swallowing, Race worked through what he wished to say, hoping Spot wouldn’t push him away. 

“And as weird as it sounds, I care about you. We don’t really know much about each other, but I don’t think we’re too different. I think maybe we could be friends.” Race laughed a little at this as his heart stuttered in his chest. “Maybe...maybe more than that. I don’t know, but at the very least, I’m here for you.”

When a hand landed on his own, Race jumped and Spot’s face was much closer than before. 

“Thanks, Race,” Spot whispered, his eyes glazed over. 

In that moment, Race knew Spot’s sincerity was true and he leaned in, as if some force was pushing him towards Spot. The same draw seemed to be affecting Spot as well, their faces hovering mere inches away from each other. 

The corner of Spot’s mouth turned up and he placed a gentle kiss on Race’s lips, only to move away in the same instant.

Blinking, Race almost thought he had imagined the kiss, but with Spot’s hand still on his own, he memorized the feeling as best he could. 

“Sorry if this is rushed,” Spot shook his head. “I don’t know what made me do that.”

“It’s okay,” Race responded immediately. “I liked it. I think.”

Spot let out a small laugh at this and shook his head. “What, I’m not a good kisser?”

“Didn’t say that,” Race shot back with a grin of his own. “Though, if you really want to prove yourself...”

Without hesitation, Spot leaned back in and Race met him halfway as the two shared a proper kiss. Race’s stomach was somersaulting, his other hand gripping onto the chain for some stability as the two embraced. 

When they pulled away, Race almost pouted at the loss of contact, but found new interest in Spot standing up and leading him away from the swings. 

Hand in hand, the two left the park and their silence was now filled with idle chatter, the two teasing each other as Spot took Race home. Reaching the back door, Race didn’t want the night to end so soon, but Spot left him with another kiss as a promise. 

Suddenly, detention turned into something else entirely and Race, for once in his life, was looking forward to school on Monday.

~

By some miracle, Spot and Race had finished their detention early and were sent off without any questions. Lingering by the entrance to the school, both boys seemed reluctant to let the conversation end and Race took over, his nervousness speaking for him.

“Can I take you to meet my mom?” he spoke, the words spilling out faster than he could register them. 

Spot’s eyes widened for a moment before he readjusted back to his blank face, shrugging a little. “Is she ready?”

“I think so,” Race thought it over, then motioning for Spot to follow him. 

The walk was silent, the wind occasionally breaking through and Race held his breath as he led Spot to a cemetery familiar to the both of them.

“Um, Race?” Spot’s voice was low, but nothing else was asked as Race led them through the graves. 

Past Spot’s mother, in another area of the cemetery, Race found his own, her stone a little more worn that Spot’s mother’s.

“Hey, Ma. Finally brought Spot around,” Race grinned, gesturing out to Spot. “Though I’m sure you’ve seen him. Bet you and Mrs. Conlon are real close now, aren’t you?”

Spot laughed a little at this and Race bit on his lip. 

“See, funny thing, Mom. I did really hate him at first, but the more I got to know him, the more I saw what we had in common.” Race glanced at Spot, his stomach flipping as a faint hint of red splashed across Spot’s cheeks. “He’s pretty cool and I like him a lot. I hope you like him too.”

A soft breeze passed through and Race nodded, taking this sign as approval. His voice left him then, his body starting to shake as one tear after the other fell from his eyes. 

“Fuck, I miss her,” Race whispered, wiping his tears away. 

Unable to stop himself, Race allowed Spot to see him cry, unnoticing of the hand that reached out to him. 

When Spot’s hand intertwined with his own, Race glanced at him to see tears in Spot’s eyes as well. 

“It’s not easy,” Spot’s voice was soft, barely heard above the rustling grass. “But I’m sure she’s proud of you.”

Race was tempted to laugh, but he chose to sniff instead, giving Spot’s hand a squeeze. They stayed in front of the grave a little while longer until Race’s tears had dried. Leading them away, Race turned in the direction of where Spot’s mother was, looking over his shoulder to gauge Spot’s reaction.

“Thanks,” Spot nodded when they stopped and held tightly onto Race’s hand before clearing his throat. “Well, Mom, I’m sure you heard Race and his mother. Gotta say, I’ll need to get better at this,” Spot joked as Race smiled encouragingly. 

Spot’s speech was short, but just as heart wrenching as he apologized, wishing for her to come back. By the time Spot had finished, both boys were crying again and Spot pulled Race into a hug, crying into his shoulder. When their embrace ended, nothing was said as they wiped away their tears. Instead, Spot took Race’s hand again and the two left the cemetery, headed towards no particular destination.

“Want to have dinner at my house and meet my grandparents?” Race asked softly as he and Spot walked down the street. 

“I’d like that a lot,” Spot nodded, bumping into Race a little. “You think they still remember me?”

Race paused, his head tilted in confusion. “What?”

“Oh my god,” Spot laughed a little, shaking his head. “You still don’t believe it do you? We were best friends when we were six, Racer.”

The nickname, so foreign yet familiar all the same brought a wave of memories and Race could only drop his mouth open as he began to see the similarities between Spot and the little boy’s face that popped in his mind. 

“I thought– Blink said–”

“Best friends,” Spot enunciated, a hint of a smile now on his face. 

As the realization hit Race, memories sorting themselves out, he smacked himself on the head, a small laugh leaving him. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” Spot shrugged, squeezing Race’s hand. “At least now you remember. I hope.”

“Yeah...it’s coming back,” Race reassured, his heart almost breaking over the fact that he had forgotten so much.

They rode the bus to school together and every day, they spent time at each other’s houses, coming up with the most ridiculous of games. Everything up to this point started making sense and Race sighed at his forgetful mind. Maybe it was the shock of Spot moving away or the death of his own mother that muddled the memories. At this point, Race wasn’t going to point fingers, he was just glad to have Spot back in his life.

Thinking back to the beginning of the school year, he wished he and Spot had started on better terms. Things could’ve been wildly different, but then again, Race wasn’t upset with how things had ended up now. 

Meeting Spot’s eyes, he could see someone else. No longer was there a facetious mask, picking Race apart bit by bit nor was it the young boy he spent endless hours with. Spot was by no means perfect, but he was everything. 

They had a chance to start again and Race couldn’t stop himself as he leaned in, placing a kiss on Spot’s cheek. Spot’s reddening face made Race laugh as he asked Spot if what he did was okay. In a way he had surprised himself, but Race was ready to take the next step in their relationship.

“Yeah…yeah, that was nice. Good to know we’re official then,” Spot’s voice sounded far away, as if in a daze and Race rubbed his thumb along the back of Spot’s hand. 

Wherever they were to go now, Race found himself giddy with anticipation and when he saw the small smile grow on Spot’s face, he knew Spot was ready too.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a while ago...it didn't really have a cohesive plot so i've never really edited it
> 
> and i'm tired of looking at it so here
> 
> [Tingle](http://safarikalamari.tumblr.com)


End file.
